


Summer Nights

by LeQuin



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-21
Updated: 2019-03-21
Packaged: 2019-11-26 21:25:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 19,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18185921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeQuin/pseuds/LeQuin
Summary: Challenge response. The summer after Harry's fifth year he helps a local pensioner out of a tight spot. The man takes Harry under his wing and by the end of the summer Harry is invited to a party at the golf club of which his patron is the Managing Director. At the party Harry makes an unexpected discovery about the man's family.





	1. Chapter 1

I found this challenge by reading someone else's response and have no idea if the account of the person who first issued the challenge is still active, but it was reportedly issued by MarauderbyMoonlight. Credit to them for the original idea.

* * *

**Challenge**

Requirements:

\- takes place during the summer (after fourth or fifth year)

\- Harry is at the Dursleys'

\- Harry helps out a neighbour (you can decide how, but Harry must make a really good impression)

\- the neighbour Harry helps out turns out to be the head of a country club that Vernon and Petunia just joined

\- club is holding a dance/party/welcoming for Vernon and his family; head person insists that Harry come too

\- Harry's neighbour is a relative of Hermione's as well, her family is attending the party too

\- Hermione at first does not want to attend (she is too worried about Harry), but her mother talks her into it

\- MUST END HARRY AND HERMIONE!

Optional:

\- During the dance, Dudley gets a crush on Hermione, but is devastated when she spends the entire time with Harry

\- Dudley can act like a total ass, embarrassing Vernon to no end, while Harry's the perfect gentleman

\- If Harry and Hermione do hook up during the dance, Dudley accuses Harry of using magic on her and tells Vernon, who screams first at Harry, then gets in a fight with Hermione's parents, not knowing she's a witch too

* * *

**Warning**

Obviously this will be a H/Hr story. There will be violence and references to child abuse.

* * *

**Disclaimer**

Harry Potter and all associated characters, locations and what not belong to J.K. Rowling and whoever she sells the rights to. I have borrowed these characters, locations and what not in order to mess around with them. In some cases I have lifted a piece of dialogue or scene directly from the books as a touchstone. I do not own anything except the plot and I am not making any money from this endeavor. This applies to the whole story.

* * *

"Make sure you get back here on time, freak! We're not going to delay our dinner for you!" Aunt Petunia's voice screeched after Harry as he hurried out the door of Number 4, Privet Drive. This summer had been unbearable so far and he had only been back for a week. Nightmares of the battle at the Department of Mysteries had woken him up every night. His tormented screams unfortunately also woke his relatives who were less than pleased with that state of affairs and Vernon had let him feel it. The warning that the Order had given them at King's Cross was proving to be less than effective. Vernon just stood behind Harry with a cricket bat whenever he wrote a letter to the Order and Hedwig was kept locked up in her cage whenever she wasn't out delivering a letter.

Harry's only refuge from his relatives was to leave the house every day and walk wherever his feet took him. Like the year before he had to make sure that he got home just before Dudley did if he wanted to eat dinner. Come home too early though and his relatives would take it as a challenge to see how many ways they could come up with to insult him, his parents and his friends; after his experiences before his third and fifth year Harry had decided that he wasn't going to take a chance on the Ministry's reaction.

As he walked Harry tried to force his mind away from memories of what had happened at the Ministry at the end of the school year. Usually they lingered as a chill in the back of his mind, no matter how warm and sunny the day might be.

He wondered if the Order had posted guards again, like they had last summer, but no one had stopped him from going where he pleased yet.  _Probably because it would include talking to a mopey, useless git who got his godfather killed._  With a shiver Harry forced that thought away again. It seemed like every time he thought about  _anything_  his mind was bound and determined to wander over to Sirius' death or the injuries he had caused to Ron, Hermione, Tonks and the others.  _I am so sorry, everyone. I should have never taken you along._

Harry's deepest shame was reserved for the way he had spoken to Hermione before they left and the way she had looked after that purple flame had hit her in the chest.  _Sirius at least made his own choice to go and rescue his idiot of a godson. I pretty much forced Hermione to come along when she tried to warn me that it was a trap. I really owe her an apology. I just hope that she'll still be friends with me, even if I wouldn't be able to blame her if she told me to get lost the next time we see each other._  Another shudder passed through Harry at that thought.  _I wish I could just not think about this anymore, just blank my mind._

In an effort to distract himself Harry took a path across some fields so that he could force himself to concentrate far more than necessary on placing his feet carefully on the uneven ground. He barely even paid attention to where he was headed as he walked on. He just kept putting one foot in front of the other as the sun kept climbing in the sky. As a result he had no idea where he might have ended up when he heard a scream of pain coming from somewhere ahead and to his left. Harry's body dropped into a crouch, his wand out and moving, his muscles tensed to respond to possible threats in an instant. He realised that he had ended up in a fairly affluent neighbourhood. The houses were larger than the ones on Privet Drive and he could see carefully manicured gardens that would make the Dursleys drool with envy. Another cry of pain solidified Harry's certainty about which house it was coming from.  _What do I do? What if the Death Eaters came here already?_  As he thought of running away and leaving the screamer to his fate Harry's mind filled with an image of Hermione looking disappointed in him.

 _No. It doesn't matter. I can't just let someone suffer without doing everything I can to help them. If I'm supposed to be some kind of prophesied hero, I'd better start acting like it._ Breaking into a run, Harry closed the distance between himself and the house. He tried to move without being seen, but wasn't sure how well he was doing at that.  _Guess I'll know I failed if curses start coming my way._ Harry quickly made his way around the house looking for a way in. When he got to the back he found a patio with vine covered trellises over it. The glass sliding door that led into the house had been shattered. Harry could hear indistinct voices coming from further inside the house and carefully made his way inside. Following the voices he came to the living room where he saw three large blokes wearing ski masks standing around a downed man through the ajar door.

"Look, you geezer, if you just tell us where you keep your valuables we'll not break your other leg, yeah?"  _Wait. I know that voice. What the hell are Dudley and his lot doing here? More importantly: how do I get them to leave? If I can't use magic my best option is to overwhelm them. At least there's another door out of that room; I don't think I'd like to take my chances while they think they're cornered._  Looking around the room he was in Harry spotted what looked like a brass bust of about eight inches tall.  _At least that'll do as a back-up plan._ "Last chance." Harry quickly grabbed the bust and took a deep breath before barging through the door into the living room.

"In here! I've found them! They're in here!" he called out over his shoulder. Dudley and his gang jerked around in surprise. Harry could see the way Dudley's piggy, blue eyes widened in recognition behind his mask before his cousin took a threatening step forward. Desperately Harry swung the bust at his cousin who managed to avoid most of the blow. The bust was heavy enough that even a glancing blow knocked him on his arse though, much to Harry's relief. When he tried to get up Dudley was clearly woozy from the blow.

"Shit. C'mon, Big D. We need to get out of here!" one of the other two called out, sounding panicked that Dudley wasn't going to be at full fighting strength. Dudley's mates hauled him up and helped him stagger out of the room in a hurry. Harry didn't relax until he heard the front door slamming and then he knelt down next to the man on the floor. He looked old enough to be someone's grandfather and his face was twisted in an expression of pain.

"Sir? If you'll tell me where your phone is I'll ring 999 for you." Harry tried to keep his voice calm as he spoke to the man, not wanting to scare him.

"It's on the table in the hall." the old man gritted out. Harry rushed out of the room and soon found a handheld phone resting in its cradle in the hall. Harry picked it up and dialled as he made his way back into the room.

"Hello, emergency service operator, which service do you require?" a calm female voice sounded through the horn as Harry reached the old man again.

"We need an ambulance and maybe the police."

"I'll connect you now." There was a dial tone for a brief moment before a click resulted in an equally calm male voice.

"Ambulance service, what's the address of your emergency?"

"Um, I'm not sure. Hang on, I'll just ask him." Harry pulled the phone away from his ear for a moment. "Sir, can you tell me your address?"

"30 Abbots Drive in Virginia Water." Harry repeated the address for the man on the other end of the line.

"Can you tell me exactly what happened, sir?"

"Um, I heard screaming while I was taking a walk and I found this house broken into. The sliding door at the back has been shattered. When I got in here there were three blokes threatening to break this man's other leg. I managed to chase them off by pretending to have more people with me, but the man they hurt is still lying here on the ground."

"How old is the gentleman with you?" Harry once again relayed the question to the old man next to him.

"Sixty-seven."

"Thank you. Help is on its way, but please stay on the phone. I want to ask you a few more questions."

"Alright." Harry pulled the phone away from his ear again. "Help is on its way, sir. Just hold on a little while longer." The man gave a terse nod to show his understanding, but Harry didn't like how pale he looked. Harry put the phone back to his ear and tried to answer the operator's questions as best he could. He thought he was doing fairly well until the operator asked one that had him doubting himself.

"Could you identify any of the assailants?"  _What do I do? If I identify Dudley I'll be kicked out of the house. I may not like that Dumbledore hid all that important information from me for so long, but that shouldn't make me eager to give up on the protections I do have at this point. Especially considering I am apparently the only one who can stop that monster. So it comes down to a question of do I lie to protect Dudley and so protect myself from Voldemort or do I throw us both under the bus? Would anyone even believe the Dursleys' 'delinquent nephew'?_

 _I'm not strong enough without the protection and there is no guarantee that telling the truth would help this man. I have to lie._  It was a sobering realisation, but after what he had lived through in the Department of Mysteries it had become abundantly clear to Harry that he wasn't a match for Voldemort or some of his Death Eaters as he was now.  _Until I am strong enough to stand on my own two feet I have to lean on the protections others have given me, no matter how distasteful that is._

"Um, there were three of them. The leader was pretty heavy-set and his mates called him 'Big D'." Harry said, determined not to lie completely to protect his cousin.

"Did you see anything else that might have stood out?"

"No. They were wearing ski masks to hide their faces." Just then the front doorbell rang. "I'm sorry, sir, but I have to go now. It sounds like the ambulance is here."

"That's fine. You've been a great help so far. My colleagues will take over from here." Harry said a hurried goodbye as he walked into the hall before hanging up. He opened the front door and let the ambulance techs in. He led them over to where the old man was and stayed with them until they were loading him into the ambulance. Both techs praised Harry for his actions, but he truly felt that he didn't deserve it considering how much he wasn't saying about the assailants. Once the house was locked up and the ambulance had driven off, Harry started making his way home. It was already dark by the time he got back to Privet Drive and Harry was just hoping that the door would still be open, having given up on the idea that he might eat dinner a while ago. Thankfully the door opened on his first try.  _Thank goodness for that. I wasn't looking forward to spending the night outside._  Harry's contemplation of his good fortune was abruptly ended by the impact of a meaty fist on his temple that sent him sprawling to the floor.

"What the hell do you mean by it, freak?" Vernon's voice hissed out from somewhere above him. "We give you food from our plates and clothes from our backs and you use your freakishness to hurt my son?" This was followed by a kick to the ribs that knocked Harry back down from where he had been trying to crawl to his feet.

"I didn't-" Harry managed to cough out before another kick silenced him.

"Don't lie, boy. Dudders already told us what happened. I would have thought that being dragged in front of one of your courts would have taught you a lesson, but I see that I was wrong. It's no bloody wonder that that world produces garbage like you if that's what they call a justice system." This was followed with another kick and another. Harry noticed that he was feeling two impacts at the same time.  _Dudley must want his pound of flesh_ his mind absently noted while Harry focused on curling up to protect his vital areas as much as he could. It didn't take long for the two heavily overweight Dursleys to tire themselves out, but they managed to do quite a bit of damage in the meantime.  _I suppose I should be grateful that Dudley didn't take up kickboxing._

Biting back a groan of pain Harry forced himself to get up and limp up the stairs.  _Trying to get something to eat would just give them a second wind._ He collapsed on his bed and tried to take stock of his injuries.  _It feels like it's just bruises. They'll hurt for a few days, but at least it wasn't worse. Feels like they remembered to avoid my face again too._  His stomach gave a final rumble as he drifted off into a fitful sleep.

:-:-:-:-:

A few days later Harry once again found himself walking in the affluent neighbourhood of Virginia Water. In those days Harry had come to view staying away from Number Four as even more of a priority.  _The farther away I can get the better in fact._ The day after his beating Harry had been cornered by Dudley and his gang. Nothing Harry had said had really convinced those thugs that he hadn't told the police anything about them breaking into an old man's house and essentially torturing him to try and discover the location of any valuables in the house.  _If they really wanted to simply get some money they could have taken anything. Even without searching for it I could see that most of what he owned was expensive. They were getting off on the violence and I am simply letting them get away with it. I think I was happier not knowing about that damn prophecy or those blood wards; not really safer, but definitely happier._

Harry still didn't pay a lot of attention to which direction he started walking in, but he certainly noticed that he was walking farther than he had the week before.  _Not like I can escape my shame that way, but at least it keeps me out from under the Dursley's feet. It is a little strange though that they haven't complained more. Usually they don't like doing chores they could pass off to me, but I haven't heard a word from them about that._ Something  _must be keeping them occupied._

Today Harry's aimless wandering had apparently led him back to the scene of the crime. He looked up at the house where he had found Dudley and his gang assaulting the owner and briefly considered ringing the doorbell to ask the man if he was doing alright.  _No. If I showed up unannounced it would be too much like I expected something from him._  Harry gave himself a mental shake and continued walking. He could hear a busy road up ahead and took a turn to avoid it. In his distracted state it would be dangerous to walk near so many fast moving cars. Harry continued walking until he became aware of someone calling out.

"You there! Boy! Hold on a moment! Blast it all, girl, go faster." Surprised, Harry looked around. Behind him he found the man he had helped a few days ago being pushed in a wheelchair by a young woman. The woman was looking fairly chagrined at at the old man's exhortions and Harry thought it would probably be best to just wait for them to catch up. "You're the one that drove off those hooligans the other day."

"Yes, sir. Are you healing well?"

"Bah, I'll be stuck in this chair with Nurse Ratched here for the next six to eight weeks; so I suppose not bad for someone my age." Harry looked up at the nurse in shock and saw a long-suffering look in her eyes.

"That's… that's good to hear, sir." Harry replied, unsure of what the proper response to something like that was. The old man waved his comment off with one hand while his eyes remained focused on Harry.

"So what brings you back here, hmm? Looking for another pensioner to save? Or just returning to the scene of the crime?"

"I don't really have a reason, sir." Harry shrugged.

"A lad your age just happens to be walking through such a boring neighbourhood?" the man asked in disbelief. Harry shrugged again.

"Better walking around than sitting at home." Something sharpened in the man's eyes at that.

"Can't say that you're wrong, boy. Would you be interested in doing a job for me that would keep you out of the house for probably the rest of the summer?"

"Yes, sir." Harry exclaimed without hesitation, wondering immediately if he hadn't perhaps been too eager in his acceptance.

"Excellent. I like seeing that kind of work ethic in a young man. Come along and I'll show you what you'll be doing. Let's go, girl, we're going back home." Harry saw the nurse roll her eyes at him, but she did wheel the chair around and started pushing it back towards the old man's house. Harry hurried to catch up to the pair. Once he settled into a walk next to the wheelchair the man looked up at him. "What's your name anyway, boy."

"Harry Potter, sir."

"Arthur Williams." the man grunted in response. Harry felt a quiet thrill at having to introduce himself to someone.  _I don't think I've had anyone react so wonderfully uninterested in my name in years._

"And you, miss?" Harry asked the nurse politely.

"Giselle Hartford." she answered with a smile. Harry gave her a tentative smile back and continued walking next to the wheelchair in silence. When they reached Mr. Williams house Giselle parked him on his patio and went into the house through the obviously repaired door.

"Hope you like vegetable juices, boy. The witch won't serve anything else, except green tea." Mr. Williams grumbled out in a tone that was just low enough that it wouldn't carry into the house. Harry couldn't help but wonder if he was about to get some pumpkin juice in the muggle world. "Look over there and I'll explain the job I have in mind for you." the old man said in a more normal tone of voice as he gestured out into his garden. Harry's gaze followed the gesture and found a perfectly manicured lawn that was bordered on two sides by a grove of trees. The third side consisted of a large hedge and Harry could just see the neighbouring house rising above it. In the middle of the lawn was a stump of what must at one point have been a fairly large tree.

"That stump used to be a grand, old oak tree. It got toppled in the storm a few months ago. I got a gardening company to clear it away but they left the stump until I could decide what to do with it. I could swear the smug bastard felt like I should have been planning what to do in that situation for years."

"Language, Mr. Williams." Nurse Hartford's voice sounded from behind them. She placed two glasses filled with an orange liquid on the table and shot her charge a stern look.

"Bah! I'll curse if I want to, girl. It's a privilege of old age." Harry noticed that despite Mr. Williams' grumbling he was quick enough to take the glass of juice closest to him and chose to follow his host's example. It wasn't pumpkin juice, but the taste was pleasantly crisp on the hot summer's day. "As I was saying, boy, I don't want that smarmy prick around my house if I can help it." Mr. Williams paused and sent a challenging look at his nurse. Nurse Hartford only gave him an indulgent smile and patted his head like he was a large child causing his expression to morph into one of outrage. "Anyway, I want you to have a crack at getting the damn thing out of my garden. If you manage that we can see about having you put in the pond I've decided I want to have there. I'll get the girl to make you a lunch each day that you're here and I'll pay you at the end of the week. Do we have a deal?" Harry took another look at the stump and remembered when Vernon had tasked him with removing a considerably smaller stump from the garden at Number 4. It had been backbreaking and exhausting work and this looked to be an even tougher task.  _Perfect._

"When can I start, sir?"

"Hah! Tomorrow morning if you like. I'll give you the key to the garden shed so you can get at the tools. You can start around eight. Nurse Nightmare should be up then, even if I might not be." After he had finished his juice Harry bid Mr. Williams and Nurse Hartford goodbye and noted the time. He would have to know exactly how far the walk was if he was going to be on time tomorrow.

Over the next few weeks Harry settled into his new routine. At first he snuck out of Number 4 around six in the morning to make the two hour trek to Virginia Water. That had changed when he had overslept and had jogged as much of the distance as he could. Realising that he had found another way to exhaust himself into a hopefully dreamless sleep, Harry began jogging the five mile distance between the two houses twice a day. When he arrived at Mr. Williams' house he would usually find Nurse Hartford, or Giselle as she had insisted he call her, cleaning or enjoying a quiet cup of tea before heading up to help her acerbic employer start his day. She had managed to get Harry to admit that he usually didn't eat breakfast when she had heard his stomach growl one morning and, after scolding him thoroughly for neglecting his body like that, made sure that she had something nutritious waiting for him from then on. After breakfast Harry would get to work and fight his way through the roots of the old oak tree with spade and axe. At some point during the morning Mr. Williams might come out and watch him work or read a book. When the sun reached the peak of its journey across the skies Harry would be called in for lunch, which was eaten under Giselle's watchful eye. Harry was usually grateful for the break as he tended to get fairly warm while he worked. He knew that he could counter that to some extent by wearing a shorts and a t-shirt or even taking his shirt off, but he didn't want to get caught in a conversation about the scars, both magical and mundane, that littered his body.

Over lunch Mr. Williams would usually share some stories of his time with Her Majesty's Navy. After five years of life threatening situations in the magical world, Harry felt he could relate a little to some of the stories about combat, but he enjoyed the descriptions of far away places most of all. After lunch Harry would get back to work and Giselle would usually take Mr. Williams out for a walk. Harry preferred to work as long as possible though he had learnt to restrain himself to stopping at six o'clock at the latest and then heading home after a rewarding cup of tea with Giselle and Mr. Williams to avoid strange looks and awkward questions.

Once he had received his pay at the end of the week Harry had used it to buy himself dinner at the Queen's Arms, the local pub. He had gotten some queer looks the first day he had walked in, but after a few days he didn't rate so much as a glance and after a week and a half the landlord was starting to anticipate his orders. Harry was always careful to order the cheapest and healthiest option he could, usually the cod or the shepherd's pie. He had planned it out so that his pay would buy him meals for the rest of the summer and had been utterly shocked when the end of the second week brought with it another payment. His surprise at the money and his stammering explanation that he had thought that what he had received the first week would cover the whole of the job had been met with that sharp-eyed look that Mr. Williams occasionally shot him. In the end Harry had agreed to the old man's terms when the questions about why he wouldn't want the money started coming a little too close to what his life was like at Number 4.

Life at Number 4 had actually changed to the point where Harry was starting to worry. The Dursleys barely noticed that he was gone all day or that he wasn't eating with them anymore. They hadn't even noticed or cared that Harry was using the shower every evening as opposed to once every three days like he was normally allowed. There was now an equally good chance that Uncle Vernon would respond to being woken up by Harry's nightmares with a tirade and a single swat at Harry's head, which was less of a punishment than Harry had occasionally received for worse infractions. As a result Harry was constantly on edge around his relatives as he waited for the other shoe to drop.

After seven weeks of hard work, Harry had finally gotten the stump out of the ground. He had purposefully dug a slightly larger hole than the pond Mr. Williams had described and was now padding earth back into the hole to cover the protruding roots. A black tarpaulin had been delivered earlier in the week when it had become clear that Harry would finish his assigned task soon and Harry didn't want to see it rip and spill Mr. Williams' new pond into the ground below. When he had finished he eyed the position of the sun in the sky and decided that he would leave positioning the tarpaulin for the next morning. He stretched to remove the kinks in his back before cleaning off the tools and placing them back in the shed. He washed his hands under the garden hose and made his way over to the house to let his host know that he was leaving. As soon as he opened the door Harry realised that he was interrupting something.

"I'll not have a nurse following me around at my own club!" Mr. Williams barked stubbornly.

"Listen to me, you stubborn, old fool: you, need, help." Giselle was as close to losing her temper as Harry had ever seen her. Before another salvo could be fired, Harry cleared his throat drawing to sets of eyes towards himself.

"I just wanted to let you know that I'm done for the day and that I'm going home. I'll see you tomorrow." Harry said quickly, not wanting to get caught up in whatever the argument was; it wasn't to be.

"Harry, can you tell this bull-headed man that he isn't well enough to be walking around without help yet?" Giselle asked him in frustration.

"I'd never live it down if I showed up with my own nurse in tow. I'm not that much of an invalid." Mr. Williams repeated stubbornly.

"Yes, you are." Giselle snapped at him.

"Fine. How about I take him then?" Harry saw Mr. Williams finger pointing at him and resisted the urge to sigh in frustration.

"Harry's a good boy, but he doesn't have any medical training."

"It's a broken leg, woman! I haven't had a sodding stroke! All he needs to know is how to call 999 if I break it again and he did that well enough the first time around."

"Excuse me!" Harry yelled out having gone from frustrated to outright annoyed. "Would one of you care to tell me what you're talking about in between trying to make plans for me?" The two adults had the grace to look a little sheepish at that.

"Well, lad, I'm the Managing Director of the Foxhills Club and Resort. We're inaugurating a new member this weekend and I have to be there. This pill-pusher is of the opinion that I need to have a babysitter to make sure that I don't overly stress my leg. I refuse to be followed around like an invalid by a nurse and I was hoping that you would be an acceptable compromise, but you're quite right that I should ask you first. Would you be willing to come along to an incredibly boring affair so that the girl will leave me alone about it?"

"I don't think I'd particularly fit in at a golf club, sir." Harry said neutrally.

"Hmph. If you did, I wouldn't have invited you. I don't mind the members out on the links, but at these events they all feel the need to become grandstanding, pompous bores. It'd be a relief to have a normal person to talk to."

"You're really selling this thing." Harry told him drily.

"I'd pay you." Mr. Williams offered hopefully.

"It might be a nice way to close out your summer, Harry." Giselle interrupted unexpectedly. "You did mention that you'll be going back to that boarding school of yours next week, so why not have a last hurrah? You're only young once and you should take some time to properly enjoy it." Harry paused to consider that for a moment, though probably not in the way Giselle had intended.  _It_ would  _be a new experience. With Voldemort's return revealed I'll probably not get too many of those in the foreseeable future… well, not positive ones anyway. Now that Giselle's put it that way I'd almost feel like I'd be letting him win if I didn't go and I really don't want to let him have any victory I don't have to. Sod it, I'll do it._

"Alright. I'll keep an eye on Mr. Williams at this club thing." Harry told them with a decisive nod. He received two nods in return and just like that the argument had been settled.

"Excellent. Bring your shower things tomorrow. I've got a tailor coming by in the afternoon and he'll not want to measure you if you've just come in from working on the garden; prissy little sod."

"I'm not sure I've made enough money to cover a fitting with a private tailor, sir. I could just stop by a shop if you can recommend one." Harry answered with a frown as he tried to calculate how much money he had left from his wages and whether it would stretch even that far.

"Nonsense, boy, I'm paying."

"I can't just let you pay for new clothes for me, sir!"

"I'm not paying for new clothes for you. I'm paying your declarable expenses."

"Huh?" Harry felt a little confused though he was fairly sure he was being set up for something. "What do you mean by 'declarable expenses', sir?"

"Well, you're going along to keep an eye on me, right?" Harry nodded carefully, not seeing a trap in those words. "Then the fact that you need to look like a stuffed shirt for a night is my fault. Since this is technically a job and these are expenses incurred because of your employer's demands on you they should be covered by said employer."

"I'm not doing this because you're paying me, sir." Harry tried, worried that the old man, whom he had genuinely grown fond of over the past two months, thought Harry was only doing this for money.

"I know that, lad, but you also know that I'm technically correct and that's the best kind of correct!" The laughter in Mr. Williams voice finally made Harry give in with a rueful smile.  _He almost sounded like Hermione for a moment there._

"Alright, I surrender. I know when I'm not going to win an argument. My best friend uses that same line when she's got me cornered."

"Wonderful. I love winning. I'll see you tomorrow then, Harry." Shaking his head, Harry told his hosts goodbye and began his run home.

The next day Harry arrived at Mr. Williams' house with his toiletries in a plastic shopping bag. He started his day as he normally would and soon had the tarpaulin laid out in the hole that would become the pond. He covered it with few inches of earth so that the plants and fish that Mr. Williams had ordered would have something to live off of. The rest of the earth was piled around the edge of the tarpaulin, weighting it down so it wouldn't shift. When he was called in for lunch that afternoon Giselle took him up to the bathroom first so he could get clean. Harry had brought along his best muggle clothes and was sure that the tailor would be suitably unimpressed. Joining Mr. Williams and Giselle at the table, Harry thanked her for the food with a smile.

"So, Harry, are you excited?" she asked him once she was sure that he had started eating.

"I suppose. I should probably write down whatever measurements he takes so that I can save some time when I go get my uniform next week." Harry had decided that if the Order hadn't picked him up by the 28th he would simply take the Knight Bus and visit Diagon Alley himself. He would have gone sooner, but he still hadn't received his school letter for the year.  _I wonder if Dumbledore's been holding back my letter to make sure I don't wander off?_ A year ago the thought would never have crossed Harry's mind, but after the conversation he'd had with the Headmaster at the end of the year he couldn't help but be suspicious of the old man's actions.  _He probably has a good reason for most of the things he does, but he's trying to win a war while I'm trying to survive; I need to remember that our goals aren't necessarily the same._  He was jolted from his thoughts by Giselle's voice.

"I guess that you're pretty interested in how much you've grown, hm?"

"What do you mean?" Harry asked in confusion.

"Have you not noticed that you've shot up like a weed?" Harry looked down at his arms as he tried to decide whether they seemed longer than he remembered.

"I don't know?"

"Teenagers." Giselle huffed with a fond smile. "Just wait 'til you get back to that school of yours. I'd bet you'll have to beat them off with a stick." Harry's answering blush was met with loud guffaws from Mr. Williams. Harry's cheeks stayed warm until the doorbell rang shortly after Giselle had cleared the table, refusing any help from Harry. Giselle went to answer the door and when she came back there was a small, mousy man with her.

The next two hours were like nothing Harry had ever imagined when he thought about getting new clothes. The tailor took so many different measurements that Harry was reminded less of Madam Malkin and more of Mr. Olivander.  _At least he's not measuring my nostrils._  After all the measurements had been carefully written down in a little notebook (and provided to Harry after a bit of wheedling) the tailor and Mr. Williams began discussing styles and colours that Harry had no real opinion on. In the end he told them that since Mr. Williams was paying the tailor to make the clothes they should get to decide what they thought would work best. He was surprised when that actually caused a bit of excitement in the old tailor. When he went home that evening, Harry still felt a little wrong footed by the way he'd spent the day.  _I'll just work extra hard tomorrow. That should get me feeling normal again._

Over the last days Harry arranged rocks around the pond to give it a more finished look and wedged the garden hose in between the first two that he placed there so that the pond could fill while he worked. He planted the various water plants where Mr. Williams wanted them and helped the man from the pet store release several koi fish into the water. That Friday he received his last payment.

"You've done good work here, Harry." Mr. Williams told Harry proudly as he passed over the money. I'll see you here tomorrow afternoon around three. Your clothes should be delivered by then and a hairdresser will stop by so that we can be groomed and whatnot." Harry's reservations about anyone trying to make his hair look halfway decent were waved off and in the end Harry just agreed to let the hairdresser try.  _What's the worst that could happen? If she can't make it work my magic'll probably fix it like it did that time Aunt Petunia cut all my hair off when I was seven._

When he was actually seated in the chair the hairdresser had brought along Harry wasn't so sure of himself anymore. The young woman had been staring at his hair, picking it up and letting it fall back down for more than a few minutes now. She was muttering to herself apparently coming up with and discarding several strategies for taming his unmanageable mop. When she finally grabbed her scissors with a gleam in his eye Harry decided to make his last wish known.

"Please don't cut it to make my scar too obvious." The hairdresser stopped and gave him an odd look.

"What scar?" When Harry lifted his fringe up her eyes widened for a moment before turning contemplative. "Not to worry, luv, I've an idea for that." Harry decided he was just going to have to trust her. An hour and a half later Harry was inspecting the results of the tailor and the hairdresser's work in the mirror. He was wearing a black suit, deep purple shirt and black necktie. His feet were shod in half-boots made of something that was just too soft to be regular leather. Harry hadn't asked what it might be as he suspected the answer would only serve to make him feel more uncomfortable. His hair looked like it had been purposefully tousled rather than like a mad bird's nest. The way his fringe had been cut didn't entirely hide his scar, but it broke the lines so it wasn't so recognisable. Harry nervously played with the cufflinks that had been included as 'necessary' accessories to his suit.  _I still can't believe I'm looking at myself. I suppose that the good news is that no one else will recognise me either. That should keep me safe enough for one night._ Another thought crashed through his contemplation that left him thoroughly flustered:  _I wonder what Hermione would think if she could see me like this?_

"Harry! Hurry up! The driver's here!" Giselle's voice came floating up the stairs, breaking him from his reverie. Nodding to himself Harry walked out of the room. "There you are. Oh, and don't you look handsome as a prince?" Harry felt himself blush at Giselle's fond teasing. "Remember, don't let that stubborn, old curmudgeon stand on his leg for more than forty-five minutes at a time. At least he should be willing to listen to you. Oh, and here's my number, just in case." Harry took the scrap of paper with Giselle's name and a number on it and carefully placed it in the inside pocket of his jacket.

"Thank you, Giselle. I'll make sure to call if something goes wrong."

"It's not just in case of that. If you ever feel a desire to take me out to dinner that number's there for you as well." she grinned with a wink. Harry felt the blush that had been fading return in full force causing the nurse to laugh happily at him. "Don't worry, I'm not expecting you to use it for that." Harry decided that he was thoroughly out of his depth and would be better off cutting his losses.

"Maybe I'll call you up for a cuppa when I get back from school." he offered instead. "Now, I'd better get going or Mr. Williams might just decide to leave by himself." He hurried down the stairs, trying his best not to look like he was fleeing from someone who had, aside from doing her level best to tease him into an early grave, treated him with more kindness than anyone else who didn't know his name before meeting him. Downstairs he found Mr. Williams dressed in an impeccable suit of his own, leaning on a dignified looking cane. The old man cast an evaluating gaze over Harry's appearance before nodding in approval.

"Alright, lad let's get going." Harry followed him out the door and to the car waiting outside. He waited to make sure that Mr. Williams managed to take his seat before walking around the car and getting in on the other side. The drive to the club was a short affair and Harry let his host dominate the conversation as he spoke about the history of the club and that it wasn't all that common for people to want a full membership anymore. When they arrived at the impressive looking building Harry hurried out of the car to help Mr. Williams up. The old man shot him a glare, but accepted the help nonetheless. The driver saluted and told them he'd be available to drive them back at any time and that they should just let the Maitre d'Hotel know when they wanted to leave. Harry thanked the man and followed Mr. Williams who was already heading for the entrance to the club.

As they entered it became obvious that Mr. Williams was the Managing Director. Everyone knew him and he knew everyone. Harry noticed that Mr. Williams seemed to know all the names of the staff and his respect for the man grew. They were led into the club's restaurant which was clearly set up for a formal event. Once Mr. Williams was in his seat Harry was asked to accompany the Maitre.

"But I'm supposed to stay with Mr. Williams to keep an eye on him." he countered, reluctant to parted from the man already.

"I know, but this dinner is members-only. Don't worry, the staff won't let anything happen to him and you can just eat with us. After the dinner we'll be moving the tables out of the way so that people can mingle and other guests can join. I think that's when you'll be needed to keep him from overexerting himself anyway." the Maitre tried to reassure him, but Harry still hesitated. "I give you my word that I'll personally keep an eye on him, but we'll just be making trouble for all three of us if you stay here once the guests start arriving."

"I should fire you for that." Mr. Williams huffed, though the smile on the Maitre's face gave Harry the idea that this threat wasn't particularly serious. "He does have a point though, lad. I can think of at least three idiots coming here tonight who feel very strongly that their membership makes them 'the right sort of people'. They'd cause a ruckus just to feel more important."

"Sounds like my uncle." Harry muttered. "Fine, but I'd better not come back to find you hobbling around because your pride wouldn't let you sit."

"I promise, lad. Now go with Jeremy. I can also promise you that you'll have the more enjoyable dinner." Harry nodded slowly and followed the Maitre out the door.

"So, like you heard Mr. Williams say: my name is Jeremy."

"Harry."

"A pleasure. You'll be eating in the kitchen with the serving staff." Harry could see that there was something else that Jeremy wanted to add by the way the other man was looking at him. He invited the question with a cocked eyebrow. "So how did you meet Mr. Williams? I've never seen him take to someone like he has with you."

"I've been doing some work in his garden for him."

"He invited his gardener to the club?"

"I'm just here to keep an eye on him since he didn't want to be followed around by a nurse."

"Harry, he has a whole staff here who could do that. He didn't have to invite you, he  _wanted_ to." Harry suddenly felt like an idiot.  _Of course he wouldn't actually need me if everyone here already works for him. Why did he want me here then? I'll just try to figure it out as I go along._

When they reached the kitchen Harry was introduced to the rest of the staff and did his best to remember as many names as he could. He had never really thought about just how many people might be needed to make a night like this run smoothly. He did his best to stay out of the way of the cooks preparing the food since all of them looked distinctly harried as they ran through the kitchen, doing their best to make sure that all the food could get out on time and still be good enough to do justice to the occasion. He listened to the gossip of the servers as they discussed the way the various members treated them. There seemed to be a range from 'pompous and insufferable' to 'kind, if a bit aloof'. Whoever the new member was, he and his family apparently fell firmly into the first category. Harry even heard one waiter snidely wonder if the man even knew the difference between a waiter and a butler.

The dinner took hours and Harry was starting to worry about how Mr. Williams was doing, but the Jeremy and a few of the servers were kind enough to reassure him that Mr. Williams was doing well even if one of the waitresses had confided with a wink that she thought he was trying to work out how to spill his soup in the guest of honour's lap and get away with it. When the dessert dishes had been collected, Harry was led to the restaurant only to find it empty of any guests as several members of the serving staff were rushing to get the tables and chairs out of the way.

"Don't worry. They're just outside watching some fireworks so we have a chance to do this without anyone seeing the actual work." Jeremy told him with a grin.

"Could you make sure to leave one of the chairs? Mr. Williams is going to need somewhere to sit sooner or later."

"Not to worry, we're going to bring in one of the lounge chairs once we've got everything out of the way. That'll allow him to look like he's sitting down by choice rather than for medical reasons. That should let him unbend enough to actually follow a doctor's orders." Harry nodded gratefully and turned his attention to the doors that led out to the gardens. He didn't know what to expect from the night but resolved to be ready for anything.  _Now I just need to wait for Mr. Williams to let me do my job. I can do this. He told me that it was just going to be a boring night. I can have a boring night. I might even enjoy having a boring night._  All he could do now was wait for the evening to begin in earnest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Foxhills Club and Resort is an actual golf club in Surrey. It's family owned and as such the managing director is clearly no relation of a fictional character; they don't even share a name. I doubt he reads fanfiction, but it seemed polite to mention it.
> 
> The Queens Arms is also an actual pub that is an actual five miles away from an actual place actually called Virginia Waters; I have never been to either.


	2. Chapter 2

"No." Helen Granger's tone was unyielding as she gave her daughter a stern look. "Hermione, you know that I would rather you never even see that boy again after what he dragged you into."

"I already told you, Mum, Harry didn't drag me anywhere. Going with him was my choice." Hermione Granger was glaring back at her mother with a defiance to match the older woman's intensity. "I just need to go see him, to make sure he's alright."

"And where was he to make sure that you were alright after you got injured?"

"He did nothing  _but_  make sure I was alright for as long as he could. Was he supposed to follow us around Europe?" Hermione's parents had taken her on a two month tour of Europe. The sights had been breathtaking from Lisbon to Vienna and from Rome to Amsterdam, but Hermione had not been able to shake the feeling that the true purpose of the trip had been to keep her away from her magical friends for a while.  _I think that they may have been trying to remind me of what could be accomplished without magic as well. They were never happy when I pointed out a magical site at least._  Hermione's mother was oblivious to her daughter's wandering thoughts and broke through them with what could only be considered a command.

"We are going to the inauguration at Uncle Arthur's club."

"Mum, Uncle Arthur won't notice if I'm not there. If you're going to Surrey, just drop me off in Little Whinging and pick me up again when you're done."

"I said NO!" Hermione jerked back at that.  _Mum just yelled. She never yells._ "Hermione Jane Granger, your last living relative outside of your father and myself was attacked in his own home and severely injured. We will be going to spend time with him and that is final!" Hermione couldn't think of any kind of response to that that wouldn't sound incredibly callous so she stayed quiet. Her mother waited a moment longer before she nodded once and turned to leave. She stopped at the door and looked over her shoulder one last time. "Get changed. We're leaving in two hours. And use that magical hair product. Goodness knows it's about time you got some actual benefits from that world."  _Right. Because the benefits I've gotten from the wizarding world take the form of hair care, not amazing medical treatments, experiences you could only dream of and friendships that I wouldn't trade for anything._  With a sigh Hermione made her way into the bathroom for a shower that would be followed by far more time spent on her hair than she really wanted to.

Almost two hours later Hermione was finally done. She was wearing a deep royal blue cocktail dress that fit snugly around her torso and flared out into a looser skirt at her waist. Her hair was tied back into a ponytail of soft curls and she had used a small amount of makeup.  _I wonder if Mum will approve? She'll probably be dragging me into her bathroom to correct my makeup the moment she sees me. At least the dress still fits even if it is a little…_ tight  _in some areas._  Hermione hadn't ever really stood still to consider how she would grow over the years in more than an academic sense and had, in fact, assumed that her body had filled out as much as it was going to before the summer started. Now though she was faced with a dress her mother had bought for her at the beginning of the summer fitting… differently than it had only two months ago.  _It's too bad that the Yule Ball was two years ago. Maybe Harry would have noticed me if he had seen me like this._

An embarrassed blush crept onto Hermione's cheeks as she realised what she had just thought. She buried her face in her hands as she tried to wrest back control of her thoughts and emotions.  _What am I thinking?! I don't want Harry to notice me for my body. I know that's not the way to his heart already or Ginny would have had him locked up long ago; or maybe Cho. It_ would _be nice if he looked at me like that though… NO! Why can't I stop myself?_ Hermione would have sworn that she could feel her pulse thrumming in her cheeks.  _It's okay. I can do this. I can go an entire night without thinking of Harry. I can._  Hermione's resolve was only slightly shaken by the fact that even over a two month vacation traveling around some of the most awe-inspiring sights in Europe with her parents not one day had gone by that she hadn't thought about her best friend.

_That's perfectly normal though. I'm just worried about him. Sirius was the only person Harry ever thought of as family. To lose that must be tearing him apart. Not to mention all the ridiculous expectations the magical world has started heaping on him._

_Oh for pity's sake, Hermione. I'm not thinking about Harry. I am not going to think about Harry for just_ one  _night._  Trying to believe herself Hermione left her room and headed downstairs. She found her parents waiting for her in the living room. Her father just smiled at her as she walked in, but her mother's face twisted into a clear frown of disapproval.

"Couldn't you have used some bronzer, Hermione?"

"I don't really want to cake my face with makeup, Mum." Hermione sighed out in annoyance.

"Not your face, dear, your scar. How do you intend to explain that if someone should notice?" Hermione looked down and saw that she had indeed forgotten about the line of skin that wouldn't tan, no matter how much sun it got.  _Still, calling it a scar is a little much, isn't it? The lack of pigment is the only reason you even know it's there._  Madam Pomfrey's potions had worked miracles, even if Hermione's parents had been downright sceptical of their effectiveness to begin with, convinced that science had  _progressed_  further than eye of newt and wool of bat.  _They just refuse to understand that it's a matter of the principles involved being fundamentally different rather than more or less advanced than each other_. "Come on, we'll get it covered up before we leave."

"Fine. But only because you made a good point about the questions people might ask." Hermione gave in with poor grace. She followed her mother back upstairs and allowed her to apply the makeup until she was satisfied.

"There, that's better." Helen said as she put the bronzer back in the cabinet. "I must say, dear, you look quite lovely. I'm sure Uncle Arthur will appreciate the effort you've put in, not to mention some of the young men at the club."  _I doubt it. Uncle Arthur never seemed the type to be impressed by that sort of thing._ Hermione's memories of Uncle Arthur, who was technically her grand-uncle, were of a severe man who didn't like to waste his time with people who only focused on appearances.  _I'm sure he'd be more impressed if I could tell him about my scar and how I got it in the first place. That would probably scare off every single 'young man at the club' Mum's thinking of too._  She kept her opinions to herself though, not seeing any point in picking another fight with her mother.

Hermione spent the ride up to the Foxhills Club and Resort staring out of the window from the back seat of the car. She could hear her parents talking in the front seat; well, her mother was worrying about whether Uncle Arthur would have fully recovered from his beating at the hands of those hooligans and that they were apparently already late to the party. Hermione barely paid attention as she was busy trying not to think of Harry Potter. Every time that messy black hair or those soulful green eyes slipped into her stream of consciousness, she did her best to banish them again.  _I will not think of H- of him. I can do this; I can._  Hermione wouldn't have noticed that they had arrived if the driveway up to the main building of the club, known as the Manor, hadn't been lit with enough candles that they drew her attention even in the early dusk of the setting sun. After her father had parked the car, the family made their way up to the main entrance where they were met by security guards checking that they were indeed invited to the festivities that night.

"It really is too bad that Uncle Arthur couldn't get us into the dinner, but I suppose some things must be kept members only." Hermione heard her mother say as their coats were checked at the cloakroom. They were shown into the restaurant which was filled with members and guests for this newest inauguration. The crowd was thick enough that the Grangers stood no chance of spotting Uncle Arthur unless he happened to be standing less than six feet in front of them. "Well, we'll just have to mingle until we find him." was Helen's solution to the problem.  _Wonderful, even more exposure to a group of people so impressed with their own perceived importance that they would brag about it to the Queen._

As it turned out, most of the guests were already too absorbed in their own conversations to notice the Grangers passing through and those who did notice were generally those they were already familiar with. One such couple, fellow dentists if Hermione remembered correctly, kept them talking for several minutes. Hermione stood off to the side, not truly interested in the shop talk going on between her parents and their friends but not really having anywhere better to be.  _Well, I do have somewhere better to be actually. I could be in Little- no, darn it! I am not thinking of_ him.

It was while Hermione was standing just slightly outside of this conversation that someone knocked into her. Instinctively she looked around to see who had run into her and once she did she had trouble keeping her disgust off of her face. Standing behind her was the fattest teenager she had ever seen. He was wearing some kind of gaudy, glittering tuxedo and had what looked like a mustard stain on his shirt. The stench of his cologne hung on top of an air of sweat and something that reminded Hermione of fetid meat. His blonde hair lay plastered to his skull and his recessed, piggy eyes looked at her with a hunger that made her uncomfortable.

"Hello, darling. How about you and I head out of here and you can find out why they call me 'Big D'."

"No, thank you."  _I'd not go with you if you knew the way to Shangri-La._

"Don't be so frigid, babe. Let a real man take you on the ride of a lifetime."

"I already have a real man and you most certainly don't measure up." Hermione snapped, forgiving herself in the same instant for both the lie and her thoughts flashing briefly to her best friend. "Now, I'll thank you to leave me alone." A quick glance told Hermione that her parents hadn't noticed the near confrontation between her and 'Big D'. Rather than stand there and give him another chance to spout his unwelcome 'charm', Hermione squeezed between two other guests and got out of there before anyone could call her back. She squirmed her way through the crowd until she came to the bar. The awkward realisation that she didn't really want anything to drink settled over her and she ordered a sparkling water to cover for the fact that she had no real desire to be there. Drink in hand Hermione started wandering through the crowd not really looking for anyone, though she was certainly trying to avoid that boy who had tried to hit on her. She was thoroughly lost by the time she finally spotted her parents talking to Uncle Arthur and a man in a suit.  _Thank Merlin. I thought I'd be roaming through a wasteland of self-impressed socialites all evening._  By the time Hermione managed to make her way over to where her parents and her grand uncle were the stranger had disappeared to Hermione's great relief.

"Hermione! There you are! Where on earth did you run off to?" Helen called out as soon as she had seen her daughter.

"I just went to get a drink."  _I am_ not  _going to let Uncle Arthur know that I ran away from someone._  As Hermione looked over her grand-uncle she couldn't help but feel that he wasn't as impressive as she remembered. She couldn't help but notice how much weight he was putting on his cane and how much… greyer he was than the last time she'd seen him.

"Hmph. Well you just missed the young man who saved your uncle when those ruffians went after him." her mother huffed.  _Wow, someone you actually like. Let me guess: some really rich ponce's son?_

"Hermione. I trust you are well?"

"Yes, Uncle Arthur. How is your injury?"

"Barely an annoyance anymore."  _Oh please. You don't even come close to Harry when it comes to playing down injuries._  "I must say, you've grown. How old are you now?"

"Sixteen, Uncle Arthur. Seventeen next September."

"My; so old already. How do you deal with it, Helen?"

"Arduously, I assure you." Hermione barely resisted the urge to snort in derision at her mother's comments. As it turned out she didn't need to: Uncle Arthur did it for her.

"And you wonder why I never wanted children."

"You seem taken enough with the young man who saved you."

"Don't pout, Helen. You're a grown woman, not a child." This time Hermione couldn't quite contain her amusement and a giggle slipped through her self control. She noticed that Uncle Arthur didn't seem to mind. In fact if she was reading that emotion in his eyes right he thought it was rather funny himself. "As for the lad, well, I think it's about time someone gave a damn about him."

"What do you mean, Uncle Arthur?" Hermione asked, curious despite herself.

"I mean that it's painfully obvious that whoever had the raising of him neglected him at best." Uncle Arthur's tone clearly indicated that he would dearly like to give whoever that was a piece of his mind.

"Have you informed the police yet?" Hermione's father wanted to know.

"No. All I have at this point are suspicions from what I have observed. The lad's pretty tight-lipped about his home life."

"And what have you observed?" Helen asked, sounding worried.

"We can discuss that later. It looks like he's nearly back with our drinks." Hermione kept her eyes impatiently trained on the spot where Uncle Arthur was looking.  _I really want to know who this man is that's got Mum_ and  _Uncle Arthur so impressed_ she silently admitted to herself _._ When the young man she'd seen talking to Uncle Arthur and her parents before finally came into view Hermione felt her jaw drop open.

"Your whisky, Mr. Williams. Sir, Ma'am, your wine." Hearing his voice didn't make matters any less surreal for Hermione.

"Thank you, lad. There's actually one more person for you to meet. This is my niece's-"

"HARRY!" For some reason the idea of being introduced to her best friend by her uncle galvanised Hermione out of her shock, a shock she now saw mirrored in Harry's eyes as she flung her arms around him.  _Sod not thinking about Harry for an evening! He's here! He's really here! I'm so glad Mum insisted I come along._

"H-hermione? What are you doing here?" Harry's voice might be uncertain, but his arms had come up to hold her without any kind of hesitation. With those arms around her Hermione felt a tension she didn't know she had been carrying with her melt away. As a happy contentment spread through her, Hermione buried her face in Harry's neck. She felt a cheek-splitting smile spreading on her lips as Harry's scent filled her nostrils as well as something else.  _Is he wearing aftershave? Has Harry started shaving?_  She found the idea inexplicably appealing and took another deep breath.

"We're here for Uncle Arthur." she said without pulling away so much as an inch. "I think that the better question is what are  _you_  doing here?"

"I'm here to make sure that Mr. Williams doesn't overburden himself. He refused to have the nurse come along, but he was okay with me being here." Hermione could hear the disbelief still colouring Harry's voice.

"So how is it that the two of you know each other already?" Uncle Arthur's curious voice sounded from somewhere behind Hermione.

"Hermione is my best friend from school, sir. I had no idea she was your niece." As Harry spoke, Hermione shifted herself around so she was hugging him from the side and could look at her family. Letting go never even occurred to her. She let her head rest on his shoulder, which she noticed was quite a bit higher than it had been when she had last seen him.  _He's not just gotten taller; I don't remember feeling quite so many muscles the last time I hugged him._  Across from them Hermione could see her parents' disapproval starting to show on their faces.

"Uncle Arthur, do you mind if I borrow Harry for a dance or two?" she asked quickly before Harry could be subjected to her parents' accusations.  _And after making me hide my scar they had better remember that they can't just go off on him here._

"Of course not, Hermione." Uncle Arthur replied with a chuckle. "Something tells me I've been borrowing him from you this whole time anyway." Hermione felt her cheeks heat up at her grand-uncle's knowing tone. The only thing that made the situation a little more bearable was that Harry's face was turning as red as she was sure her own was. Tugging on his hand she pulled him away from the rest of her family. Since she could feel their gazes on her she led Harry onto the dance floor and quickly wrapped her arms around him again. As they gently swayed to the time of the music Hermione was finally able to talk to her best friend without anyone listening in despite the mass of people around them, their voices not pitched loudly enough to cut through the surrounding conversations.

"How have you been, Harry?"

"I'm fine."

"Harry." Hermione warned him.  _Will he never stop it with that rotten answer?_

"I really am fine, Hermione. Working for Mr. Williams has given me something to do so I didn't have a chance to dwell on what happened too much." Those green eyes filled with concern as they locked on to her own. "Right now I'm more worried about how you're doing. You were the one who was injured."

"I'm fine, Harry." When Harry cocked his eyebrow at that Hermione playfully slapped his shoulder. "I haven't drained that phrase of all meaning by using it even when I'm a whisker away from death. Seriously, can you even see where the wound was?" Harry looked down for a moment before his head snapped up, a furious blush lighting his face. Looking down as well Hermione realised what kind of view she had just presented her best friend with.  _Oh my. So that blush is for me._  A part of Hermione was extremely pleased with Harry's reaction.  _He's finally noticed me like that._

"I'm sorry, Hermione." Harry said as he looked into her eyes some of his blush still lingering on his cheeks.

"Why? I didn't mind." Hermione teased.

"N-no, I um… I meant about the thing at the Ministry."

"Harry, I'm pretty sure that the Death Eaters were the ones at fault there." Harry shook his head before lowering it and resting his forehead against hers.

"I put an unreasonable amount of pressure on you. I even said that it would be your fault if we didn't go and Sirius died." He choked out a humourless laugh. "In the end it was my fault that he died and it was my fault that you got injured. So, I'm sorry and I'd-... I'd understand if you didn't want to hang around me anymore."

"Harry?" When he wouldn't meet her eyes, Hermione nudged Harry's nose with her own. As soon she saw his eyes snap open in surprise she smiled and took her chance. "Harry has any part of how I've been acting suggested to you that I don't want to be your friend anymore?"

"Well, no, but…"

"But what, hmm?" she asked, her smile never fading.

"Why is it always so much harder to stick to my convictions when you're right here?"

"Because I'm not going to let you get away with silly nonsense like staying away from me for my own good. Besides, nothing you said or did affected my decision to go with you. I was trying to stop you from going; I never said I wasn't coming with you."

"The smart thing to do would have been to stay at Hogwarts."

"The smart thing to do would have been to let the troll have me. Friendship isn't always about being smart is it?"

"No, I suppose not." Harry breathed out. Hermione suddenly became very aware of the fact that if she tilted her head only slightly her lips would touch Harry's. The realisation froze her in place causing Harry to draw back slightly so he could look at her. "Hermione?"  _I'm being silly. Just because of a few looks I'm starting to imagine what it would be like if-..._ a pleasant shudder cut her thoughts off.

"It's nothing, Harry." To prove her point she started swaying against him again. Harry looked at her a moment longer before joining in once again. Trying to forget about the images her imagination was throwing up, Hermione rested her head on Harry's shoulder once more.

"Hermione?" she heard Harry's voice softly above her.

"Hmm?"

"You- you look really beautiful."  _What?!_  Hermione jerked back and looked up at Harry in surprise. She was met with green eyes full of a nervous sincerity.  _Oh, Harry… how am I supposed to not be silly if you're going to say things like that?_ Hermione opened her mouth to say… well, she wasn't sure what she was going to tell Harry, but she was sure there was something she needed to say to him.

"Hey, babe. I've been looking for you. You ran off so fast last time that I never even got your name." Before Hermione could continue talking to Harry she was interrupted by an unwelcome voice. Looking over her shoulder she saw the fat boy from before leering at her again. She unconsciously pressed herself further into Harry. "Is this ponce supposed to be that man of yours then? I could- Freak?!" Hermione could feel Harry stiffening.

"Dudley?"  _Wait, Harry knows this bipedal suid?_ The pig in question was slowly turning puce.

"How'd you get in here, Freak? And where'd you get the suit? Dad's going to kill you when he finds out you snuck in." Hermione felt a wave of revulsion at the combination of disgust and gleeful anticipation she could see in the fat boy's eyes.

"I was invited, Dudders. Can you say the same?"

"Ha! This is Dad's inauguration. You'd never be allowed in somewhere like this. I'm pretty sure they have a 'No Freaks' policy." To Hermione's revulsion those hungry, little eyes were on her again. "You don't want to stick around with this loser, gorgeous. Trust me, he's more of a freak than you could possibly know and he's about to get thrown out by security anyway."

"No! Now get lost, you disgusting tub of lard." The boy's eyes narrowed in anger and his grubby paw shot out to grab a hold of Hermione. Her hand was already going for her wand in her clutch when she remembered that she couldn't curse this miserable specimen in the middle of a dance floor full of people who couldn't know about magic. Thankfully Harry had had a different first reaction and had pulled her behind him and out of the other boy's reach.

"You heard the lady, Dud. Piss off."

"You're going to regret this, Freak." he grunted before he waddled off. Harry and Hermione watched him leave until he was swallowed up by the crowd. Once they couldn't see him anymore Harry's shoulders slumped and he let out a shaky breath.

"Come on. We'd better find Mr. Williams and warn him that there's about to be a disturbance in his club." Harry said as he reached down to take Hermione's hand. She used that hold on him to spin him around.

"Who was that boy, Harry? Do you really think that he'd be stupid enough to start a fight in here?"

"That was my cousin: Dudley Dursley and yes, he is. I'd bet on the disturbance being Uncle Vernon though and it probably won't escalate past a lot of yelling. The whole family is unlikely to do anything that might damage their image too badly."  _That was Harry's cousin? He's been far too kind in describing his family if they're all like that._  Harry had turned back around and was leading her through the crowd by her hand. Hermione allowed herself to just enjoy the sensation for the time being. She was so caught up in the warmth of Harry's hand in hers that she didn't notice when he'd stopped and ran right into his back.

"Harry?"

"Isn't this where we left your parents and Mr. Williams?" Looking around, Hermione saw that they had indeed arrived at the spot where they had left her family and that they had apparently moved.

"I suppose it would have been a bit much to expect them to stand around just so we could find them again. Maybe they went to the bar for a drink?"

"Maybe. I hope your parents managed to keep Mr. Williams from overdoing it; he's a bit stubborn about walking with that leg of his."

"Are you sure you should be critical of people ignoring their injuries, Harry Potter?" Hermione asked teasingly as she gave him a light shove with her shoulder.

"Probably not." he grinned back. "Still, that's what I'm here for tonight so I should probably try even if it sounds a bit hypocritical." Giving Hermione's hand a squeeze he set off in the direction of the bar. They didn't find them there so they kept walking around, looking for the lost adults. Hermione forced herself to ignore the pleasant sensation of Harry's hand in hers and focused on scanning the crowd around them for familiar faces.  _For all the good it will do. Harry's gotten so tall that he's going to be the one to find them, simply because he can see over the heads of most of the people here._  Their encounter with Harry's cousin and Harry's prediction of how his relatives would react meant that Hermione was starting to feel anxious to meet up with her own family.

As her eyes swept around them for any sign of her parents and Uncle Arthur, Hermione noticed a large fist come sailing out of the crowd. It struck Harry in the side of the face before she had completely registered what it was. Harry staggered sideways from the impact and Hermione desperately pulled on his hand to help him stay upright, but it turned out to be unnecessary. It only took Harry two quick steps to get his balance back and he even took a moment to give her hand a reassuring squeeze. In the time it had taken Harry to recover his balance the area around them cleared as the other guests tried to get away from the fight that looked to be starting. In a matter of seconds Hermione found herself and Harry in the middle of a circle of onlookers.  _Of course they wouldn't run away completely, just far enough that they aren't interfering to stop the entertainment before someone gets hurt._

On the other side of the circle stood Harry's cousin with a superior smirk on his face. Next to him stood an older man who was just as fat and whose purpling face suggested that his circulatory system would give out at some point in the next few years. Half a step behind the two behemoths stood a tall, thin woman with a long, thin neck and an expression on her face that Hermione had last seen on Mrs. Malfoy two years ago at the Quidditch World Cup. Given the way the man's girth and the woman's hair colour matched Harry's cousin, Hermione was sure that she was looking at her best friend's aunt and uncle.

"I should have known." Harry's uncle hissed out. "I should have known that when you weren't around the house you'd be using your unnaturalness to try and ruin all the hard work it took to get this membership. What have you done, boy?"

"I helped an injured man tend his garden and he invited me along to tonight's event." Harry spoke calmly, but Hermione was standing close enough to her best friend that she could feel the tension singing through his body. She also noticed that he was carefully keeping himself between her and his relatives.

"Dad, I think the freak used you-know-what on that girl. He's been  _touching_  her." Dudley said with a smirk.

"What?! How dare you, you miserable freak?! Dudley, get her out of here. We'll see about getting her some help after I deal with the boy." Hermione saw that leering land-whale heading towards her and tried to duck behind Harry a little more.

"Back off, Dud. We've already been through this: Hermione doesn't want you anywhere near her."

"Oh yeah? And I suppose your scrawny arse is going to stop me? C'mere, gorgeous. I'll rescue you from this wimp." The mocking note in Dudley's voice made it clear that he thought Harry was no threat whatsoever. She could already smell his cheap cologne in the air around her when she felt Harry move suddenly and saw him plant his fist into his cousin's jaw in a solid uppercut. Hermione thought that she could see those piggy, little eyes rolling up into the fat boy's head and he hit the ground with an almighty crash, clearly out for the count.

"Hermione, go! Find your parents and-" Harry was cut off by his uncle's heavy fist flying straight into his face. Hermione screamed out in a combination of rage and horror. For a moment she was ready to attack the much larger man in front of her, but Harry once again managed to keep his feet. She saw his glasses slide off of his face and fall to the ground in two pieces before she met his eyes.  _Wow. They're really green without the glasses._  "Go!"  _Right. Not important right now._ Harry's command had jolted Hermione out of the shock of seeing him hit like that and she whirled around rushing into the crowd to look for her parents and, more importantly, Uncle Arthur. She just knew that that was what Harry had really meant.  _If anyone can stop this it'll be Uncle Arthur. He's supposed to be in charge here after all._ It was difficult to push her way through the mass of people who were all hoping for a morbid look at what was happening. She could feel the ripple effect of someone else shoving their way through the crowd up ahead and nearly stumbled when the wall of people opened up in front of her and she stepped into unexpectedly open space. One glance was enough to tell her the reason for the crowd's sudden cooperation.

"Uncle Arthur! You have to help! Harry's relatives are here and they're hitting him!" Hermione reached out and started pulling her uncle forward until a pained grunt reminded her that she was pulling on someone with a healing bone fracture in his leg.

"Slow down, Hermione. What do you mean Harry's relatives are hitting him?" Hermione noticed that even though he couldn't quite go at her speed Uncle Arthur was walking as fast as his cane would allow.

"Harry's cousin was trying to put a move on me and when I turned him down he got his parents and told them that Harry had done something to us. The first we knew of them was Harry getting hit in the side of the head. He wasn't fighting back until that fat cousin of his tried to drag me away. Harry knocked him out with one punch."

"Hmph. Knew I liked the lad."

"Are you alright, Hermione?" her mother's concerned voice came from somewhere behind them.

"I'm fine, Mum." Hermione answered distractedly as she tried to lead her family back to the epicenter of the disturbance. Uncle Arthur's presence led to people trying to clear a path for them so that he could get to and deal with the situation.  _Most useful thing they've done all night._  When they got to the clearing in the crowd Hermione could see that Harry's uncle was being restrained by two large muscular men wearing black suits with black turtlenecks. Another was kneeling next to Harry's cousin apparently checking him over if the open first aid kit next to him was anything to go by. Unfortunately that meant that Harry was probably the body being pinned to the ground by two more security men.

"Harry!" Hermione rushed over to her best friend and tried to check him over for injuries while the two guards tried to shoo her away.

"What's going on here?" Uncle Arthur asked with authority in his voice.

"One of the members identified this young man as a local criminal. Apparently he's already assaulted someone and drugged a young woman tonight. We're unsure of how he got in." One of the men on top of Harry reported crisply.

"That's a load of crock. Let him up." Hermione retorted annoyed at how easily Harry's captors were fending her off.

"Miss, you have to realise that you aren't in your right mind." she heard an oily voice behind her. Spinning around she was confronted with Harry's uncle who seemed to be doing his best to look dignified despite his red, sweating face. She could see the man's attention shift to her uncle. "The boy is a well known hoodlum and has to attend St. Brutus' Secure Centre for Incurably Criminal Boys. I'm afraid that he has access to mind altering drugs and isn't afraid to use them. He attacked my own son last year and again tonight." Hermione snorted derisively at the load Harry's uncle was shoveling their way.

"Do I look like an 'incurably criminal boy' to you, Mr. Dursley?" she asked, making her voice syrupy sweet though she doubted any modulation of her tone could completely hide the level of disgust she felt for the man.

"What?" Hermione wasn't sure if the man was surprised by her question or the fact that she knew his name.

"Unless you think that I am an incurably criminal boy, you should really find a way to explain how Harry's been my best friend at school for the past five years." Hermione saw the way both Dursley parents' eyes widened at her declaration and the shock and fear spreading over their faces.

"I quite agree with my niece, Devlin, and as for how Harry got in here: I brought him along with me."

"Sir?" the security man was clearly confused at the turn this had taken.

"Harry saved me from a group of hoodlums who invaded my home and assaulted me. Since then he has proven himself a hard and conscientious worker and I thought that deserved a reward so I invited him along tonight. We didn't find out that these two knew each other until a split second after they saw each other and started hugging. Let the lad up." The two men on top of Harry looked at each other and then got up at the same time, letting Harry go as they moved. Harry barely managed to crawl to his knees before he was almost bowled over again by Hermione.

"Oh, Harry, look at what that brute did to you." she fussed as she finally got a look at her friend's battered face.

"I'm fine, Hermione."

"And you wonder why no one believes you when you say that." Harry's eyes were unfocused as he tried to look at her and Hermione realised that without his glasses her friend was unable to see anything up close. Looking around she spotted the two halves of his glasses. She knew a simple spell would repair them, but it would have to wait until they were on the Express.

"I'm sorry, Harry, I don't think I'll be able to fix your glasses before September."

"Don't worry about it, Hermione. I'll find some sellotape and I can make do until we find some time."  _Sellotaped glasses, just like in first year. His uncle probably broke those the same way._ Hermione had trouble staying calm at this look into her best friend's home life.

"So, how often has your uncle broken your glasses like that?" Hermione asked faux casually.

"Don't worry about it, Hermione."

"Damn it, Harry, how long has it been going on?" Hermione was getting annoyed.  _Why won't he just tell us? He has to know that we could get him out of there. Why would he put up with an abusive family to stay somewhere he doesn't even-... oh. He told us before the summer: the blood wards. Oh Harry, I'm so sorry that I told you it was the best thing for you to go back there. I wish I could take it back._ Hermione couldn't tell Harry about her epiphany with the number of witnesses present so she tried to convey it as best she could by hugging her best friend as tightly as she thought any bruises she might not be able to see could handle. She thought that his return squeeze was probably understanding and hopefully forgiveness. She was vaguely aware of someone groaning behind her before an unwelcome voice washed over her.

"What happened?"  _I suppose it was too much to hope that Harry would have knocked that bastard out for the rest of the night._

"The girl turned out to be a she-freak, Dudders. Probably used her unnaturalness to lure you in and then the freak did something that let him punch you out."

"You may want to take those words back, Mr. Dursley. I don't appreciate your remarks regarding my daughter and you never know when something like that might come to back bite you in the future." Hermione looked up at her father who had stepped protectively between her and the Dursleys. Hermione knew that a lot of people thought that her mother was the scary one of her parents, but that was only because Dad had a little more self-control and it took quite a bit to get him to the point where his anger would lead him to take action; the way he was standing clearly told her that the point had been reached and passed.

"And who are you? Another freak?" Dursley sneered at her father. She could just about imagine the pleasant smile her father would be wearing in the full knowledge that people tended to underestimate him when he did.

"I'd take it as a compliment, Dad. This man apparently thinks 'normal' is attacking people at parties and raising his son to think that 'come outside and I'll show you why they call me Big D' is an appropriate way to address someone you've never met."

"Devlin, would you be so good as to call the police?" Hermione was surprised to hear Uncle Arthur getting involved in the discussion as well.

"They're already on their way, sir. We called 'em when we thought the boy was committing crimes here. Sorry about that by the way, lad." Harry waved the apology off with one hand and Hermione was quite happy to note that the other arm was still firmly wrapped around her.  _Well, this feels nice. Maybe some good can come of this night after all._

"Good. Keep Dursley's son here. He's the one who broke my leg."

"What?! My son would do no such thing!" Harry's aunt shrieked.

"The only things we know about the person who attacked me is that he was heavyset and that his gang called him Big D. I should say we have enough here to at least cast suspicion on him."

"Nonsense. The freak probably made you think that to cover his own crime."

"We'll see what the police have to say about that." Uncle Arthur retorted as security surrounded Harry's cousin.

"You see, Dursley? You really should have been quiet if you weren't going to discipline that hoodlum of yours." Dad still sounded like he was having a pleasant conversation with the thoroughly unpleasant man in front of him. "Now, correct me if I'm wrong, but you manufacture drills, correct?"

"I am in charge of UK sales for Grunnings." Dursley bragged.

"Excellent. You even gave me the name of your employer. I really should introduce myself: Dr. Richard Granger, DDS. I also happen to be an active member of the committee that publishes the British Dentistry Association's newsletter. I don't know how many of our members are clients of yours, but I guarantee you that they will know what happened here by next month. I do hope your business can survive your actions." Judging by the sputtering coming from Dursley's mouth dentists represented quite a sizable chunk of his clientele.  _Ha! Take that!_  "Come, sweetheart. Let's get you and your friend away from here. I'm sure the police will be able to find us when they want to take our statements." Hermione grinned up at her father and climbed to her feet. Harry popped up to his feet next to her and Hermione took his hand.

"Don't worry, I'll be your seeing eye dog for the rest of the night." she told her best friend with a grin.

"My eyesight might not be great, Hermione, but I'm not blind." he retorted before giving her hand a squeeze. "Walking hand in hand with you for the rest of the night still sounds like a nice idea though." Hermione felt something warm melt in the middle of her chest. What did it matter that Harry had seen right through her? He clearly didn't have a problem with her intentions. They followed along behind her father and Uncle Arthur and moments later they were out of the restaurant and heading to a section of the Manor that had clearly been closed for the night. Eventually Uncle Arthur led them through a door and into a comfortably appointed lounge.

"I thought we could all do with a little privacy after what just happened." He told them as he moved into the room. Hermione watched as he headed for what would appear to be a bar in the corner when she heard Harry clear his throat next to her.

"I think someone else can do that, Mr. Williams. You should sit down; I'm sure you've been walking around for more than forty five minutes by now." Uncle Arthur turned and cocked a single eyebrow at Harry. He never got a chance to respond though as her mother chose that moment to get involved.

"I knew it! You've been neglecting your doctor's orders haven't you?!"

"She's a nurse."

"I don't care. Sit. Down." Grumbling, Uncle Arthur made his way over to a wingback chair and dropped into it like a petulant child. "Don't pout, Uncle Arthur. You're a grown man, not a child." Hermione could hear how much pleasure her mother was taking from throwing her uncle's words back at him which just resulted in more grumbling from the old man.

"Come on, Harry. You should sit down too. You've just taken several blows to the head and you shouldn't be running around any more than Uncle Arthur." Hermione said as she pulled him over to a two-seater near where Uncle Arthur was sitting.

"Hermione, I'm fine."

"Sit." With a sigh Harry complied with her demand before shooting her a look that was clearly meant to show his annoyance at being treated like he was hurt regardless of the fact that he  _was_  hurt.  _Maybe there is an explanation for that after what we saw tonight._  Her father had gotten drinks in the meantime and handed them out to Mum and Uncle Arthur. As he passed her with what looked like a glass of water for himself he set two more on the table next to them.

"Thank you, Dad." Hermione said as she took advantage of the excuse that she needed to lean over to grab her glass to scoot closer to Harry and stay there while she slowly took a sip.

"So, Harry, were you ever going to tell me that your cousin was the one to attack me?" Uncle Arthur asked after a few moments of silence had passed.

"No." Harry's answer was unapologetically honest.

"May I ask why?"

"Because it never helps. The police will believe my aunt and uncle that he was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time or that someone is trying to frame him and Dudley will get off scot free while the neighbourhood chalks up another crime to their delinquent nephew." There was surprisingly little emotion in Harry's voice as he sounded like he was reciting facts in Professor McGonagall's class.

"Are you assuming this or do you have experiences to support your supposition?"  _At least Uncle Arthur doesn't sound like he thinks Harry's lying._

"I stopped trying to tell people about them when I was seven. The rest of the neighbourhood children haven't reported anything to the police in at least the last two years to the best of my knowledge." Harry replied. Hermione slipped her arms around Harry in another hug.  _I really should have asked more questions about his home life over the years._

"Do you really think that they'd get away with hurting Uncle Arthur and their behaviour tonight?" Mum asked sounding worried.

"I certainly wouldn't hold my breath waiting for a conviction of any sort." Harry replied with a shrug. The group was silent for a good while as they tried to process the idea that behaviour like that could go unpunished. The silence was broken by the door opening a few minutes later.

"I thought so. Sir, the police are here and they'd like to take your statements." the man in the doorway said.

"We'll be right out, Jeremy." Uncle Arthur replied before sweeping his eyes over the rest of them. "Let's have at it then. As David Hume said: That the sun will not rise tomorrow is no less intelligible a proposition, and implies no more contradiction, than the affirmation that it will rise." Hermione was used to her parents quoting philosophers in a similar manner and leant over to a confused looking Harry to whisper in his ear.

"He means that just because something has always happened a certain way, doesn't mean it always will."

"Even outside of school I still need you." Harry's answering whisper was tinged with both humour and respect and gave Hermione an urge to grin like mad. She got up from the couch and pulled Harry up with her. Keeping his hand firmly locked in hers she followed the rest of her family out the door and down the hallway. When they reached the foyer they found the Dursleys waiting with a man in a rumpled looking suit. He was scowling fiercely in their direction which put Hermione on guard.

"You again, Potter. What have you done this time?"

"Detective Constable Stokes." Harry greeted the man in a resigned voice. "As usual I haven't actually done anything."

"Of course not. I suppose I wasn't called here to investigate claims that you drugged a girl and attacked your cousin then?" Hermione bristled at the man's sarcastic tone. She was about to start laying into the man when her uncle beat her to it.

"You suppose correctly, Detective Constable." he said, calmly ignoring the man's sarcasm. "You were called here to arrest that Dursley boy for breaking and entering and aggravated assault. He is the one who broke into my home with two of his bully-boys nearly two months ago and broke my leg while demanding I tell them where I kept my valuables." The policeman's sceptical gaze shifted to Uncle Arthur.

"You expect me to believe that? Dudley Dursley, a young man who has always been an example for other children in the community, committed a crime we would expect from the brat that attends St Brutus'?"

"I believe we had already established that Mr. Dursley was lying about which school his nephew attends." Uncle Arthur's voice was still mild, but Hermione could hear the steel underlying it and knew he was getting annoyed.

"We most certainly did." she told the policeman emphatically. "Harry's been my best friend at school for five years. When asked to explain how that might be possible Mr. Dursley told his son that I was a 'she-freak' and claimed that I had used 'unnaturalness' to seduce that same disgusting pig of a son."

"And who might you be?" the policeman sneered at her.

"That would be my daughter." Dad answered with a warning tone. "Shouldn't you be keeping an open mind and following the evidence wherever it leads, rather than mindlessly persecuting the victims and protecting the accused,  _Detective Constable_."

"It is clear to me that you are all in league with a known criminal and therefore any testimony you might give has to be considered suspect at best. I am willing to take said criminal into custody, but if you simply insist on continuing this slander against an upstanding family I will have to consider writing up citations." Hermione felt a slight vindictive spike of satisfaction at her parents' expressions as they were confronted with the fact that the muggle world was every bit as capable of corruption and short-sightedness as the magical.  _In the end people are people. Trying to get me to abandon the magical world wouldn't change that fact. The only difference so far has been that this is the first time you've had that corruption directed at you._

"I think we are done with your services for the evening then, Detective Constable… what was your name again?"

"Detective Constable Michael Stokes." the man grunted out. "Next time think before you call the police out. We've got enough work to do without having to respond to false reports." He nodded to the Dursleys before turning around and stalking back out the door. Hermione watched the man go with a scowl on her face; a scowl she had no problems turning on the Dursleys once the policeman was out of sight.

"I'm sorry for questioning you earlier, lad. It's more than clear to me that you were telling the truth now." Uncle Arthur said with a heavy look on his face. Hermione's parents nodded along.

"That's alright, sir. I suppose it is pretty hard to believe if you haven't lived through it." Harry answered, as polite and forgiving as ever.

"At least that man will get what's coming to him. I have a friend who works with Her Majesty's Inspectorate of the Constabulary. I'll be passing on the name of our Detective Constable Michael Stokes along with a report of his actions here tonight." Turning to look at the Dursleys' smug faces Uncle Arthur's face took on a scowl almost as impressive as Hermione's. "That report will include full details on my suspicions about your son, Dursley. I will also be bringing your membership up for critical review at the next meeting of the Disciplinary Committee. I expect you'd best prepare to be the record holder for shortest membership in our club's history."

"I shall be submitting a complaint of my own that the Managing Director has sided with a known criminal."

"Sure, because keeping said 'known criminal' in your house for the past sixteen years and obviously lying about his schooling would make that sooooo believable." Hermione mocked the man, her tolerance for attacks on people she cared about having dwindled to absolutely nothing.

"That's a good point. Freak, you have until midnight to get your rubbish out of my house or we burn it." Vernon sneered, waddling out of the door before anyone could call him back, his family in his wake.

"Damn it." Harry cursed softly. "Mrs. Granger, could you make sure that Mr. Williams sits down for fifteen minutes after every forty-five he spends walking around? It looks like I need to get home."

"Where will you be staying now that your uncle's kicked you out?" Uncle Arthur wanted to know.

"London. There's a place I can stay near where I'll have to do my school shopping; I've stayed there before."

"Bollocks to that. You can just stay with me. I have more rooms than I have any honest use for anyway." Upon hearing that her uncle wanted to take Harry in nothing could have stopped Hermione from giving him a massive hug.  _Finally someone is taking care of Harry._  "Jeremy, have the driver bring the car around. We've got a mission!" The Maitre gave a slight bow that did nothing to disguise his grin before he ran off to fulfill Uncle Arthur's request. Mum was in full voice trying to get Uncle Arthur to reconsider running off into another confrontation with the Dursleys, taking Harry in and overdoing things in general. She wasn't making much headway against Uncle Arthur whose eyes were twinkling in a way that reminded Hermione of her headmaster. When the limousine Uncle Arthur had rented for the evening rolled around Hermione dove in after him and Harry.

"Hermione!" Her mother's voice ripped through the night air.

"Um, I still need to help Harry get around until he gets his glasses back?" she asked, berating herself for the uncertain tone as soon as the words left her mouth.

"And I suppose you imagine yourself taking up that duty for the rest of the summer?" her mother snarked in reply.

"I hadn't, but now that you mention it that's probably a good idea." Hermione fired right back. "Harry, can I join you in the Leaky Cauldron if Uncle Arthur decides he doesn't want two teenagers in his house after all?" She wasn't sure how effective her puppy dog eyes would be with Harry unable to see the first few feet in front of his face, but she was pretty sure he could imagine them by now.

"I have no problem with you staying over as well, Hermione." Uncle Arthur broke in cheerfully.

"Oh thank you, Uncle Arthur!" she grinned at him, feeling like the two of them were in on a joke no one else was.

"Helen, Richard, why don't you meet us at my house? We really need to get going if we're going to rescue Harry's possessions." Uncle Arthur pulled the car door shut with his cane before Mum could answer and with another word the driver was on his way.

"Hermione? Are you sure you should be antagonising your mother quite that much?" Harry asked cautiously.

"Hmph. She's been doing her best all summer to denigrate my friends and what we can do. I just wanted her get the message that I'm not going to change my mind because it would better suit her preconceptions." Hermione huffed as she remembered the way her parents had been trying to steer her away from magic in general and Harry specifically over the last two months. Harry looked concerned and it wasn't hard to understand why: he idealised the relationship between parents and children since he'd never had one to speak of. Far more worrying to Hermione was the blatant interest on her uncle's face.  _I should know better than to tantalise members of my own family with bits of knowledge I can't properly explain away._

Most of the ride to Number 4, Privet Drive took place in a tense silence. Both Hermione and her uncle were aware that Harry was unlikely to want to answer too many questions and they had each independently reached the conclusion that they would learn more if they waited for Harry to feel comfortable telling them about what he had gone through in that house. Harry himself was visibly tense as his relatives' home and the looming confrontation came closer. Hermione tried to comfort him as best she could by squeezing his hand; the back of the car didn't really have enough space for her to hug him like she wanted to.

She knew the moment they'd entered the right street as Harry's hand gripped hers with almost painful force. By the time the car drew to a stop in front of a nondescript house you could be forgiven for thinking that Harry was a soldier about to head into battle. Hermione and her uncle got out of the car and walked up to the front door with Harry. Hermione could feel the tension singing through her own veins as Harry rang the doorbell. The door opened moments later to reveal the sneering face of Harry's uncle.

"I'm here to pick up my things like you asked me to, Uncle." Harry said in a toneless voice that Hermione had never heard from him before.  _Is that how he always speaks at home?_

"Well, hurry up then, boy. I want you and your freak things out of here in no more than five minutes." Dursley grunted. Harry strode into the house in a way that reminded Hermione of the way he had walked through the Department of Mysteries a few months ago. She hurried in after him, determined to not let him face this place alone. Harry led the way up the stairs and entered through a door that had Hermione coming to a surprised halt.  _Just how many locks does one door need?! They're all on the outside too. Next time Harry says that someone doesn't like him going somewhere I will certainly be asking a few more questions._ The inside of the room wasn't much better. There were broken things everywhere and only a narrow path through the mess to a rickety bed that Harry was currently kneeling under. When he came back up he had his invisibility cloak, the Marauders' Map and his photo album in his arms.

"Loose floorboard." was all the explanation he gave before putting his things in his trunk.

"What is all this stuff, Harry?" Hermione asked with a wave of her arm that encompassed the whole room.

"Dudley's old things that he doesn't use anymore but didn't want to throw away." Harry answered as he grabbed some rags from the closet and threw them into his trunk as well.

"They make you keep your cousin's old garbage in your room?"  _That's awful. It's like they don't think Harry deserves a room._

"Technically it's Dudley's second bedroom."  _Never mind. I think I should stop asking questions until I'm out of range to hex these bastards._  Finally Harry had gathered all his things and checked the area around his bed twice to make sure that he hadn't missed anything. "Hermione, would you carry Hedwig? Uncle Vernon still has the key to her cage so she won't be able to fly to your uncle's." Hermione nodded and picked up the cage with the beautiful snowy owl inside. Hedwig gave a happy bark at the prospect of getting away from this place and Hermione smiled down at her best friend's familiar. Harry picked up his trunk and the two teens made their way back down the stairs to find their uncles in a silent glaring match. Seeing the two of them on the stairs caused Uncle Arthur to smile at them.

"All ready to go?" he asked before blinking and asking: "Is that an owl?"

"This is Hedwig, Uncle Arthur." Hermione answered with a smile of her own. "She's been with Harry for five years now." Hedwig drew herself up proudly and gave an important sounding hoot. Uncle Arthur looked a little bemused at this development but shrugged it off easily enough.

"I swear, lad, you have to be one of the most interesting people I've ever met. Let's go then. The sooner we leave this place the better if you ask me."

"Couldn't agree more." Dursley sneered at them. "See if you can't get someone to take you in next year so you can stop polluting our lives, boy." It was only her grip on Hedwig's cage that kept Hermione from reaching for her wand.  _I am definitely coming back next year to make sure that you understand exactly why you should have been nicer to Harry, fatso._  Doing her best to ignore Harry's foul relatives, Hermione marched out of the door with her head held high and slipped into the car with Hedwig on her lap. Uncle Arthur was sitting next to her a moment later, while Harry took the time to help the driver load his trunk into the boot before joining them. As they drove away from Privet Drive he closed his eyes and slumped back into his seat for a moment. Hermione's hand slipped back into his once again which earnt her a grateful look and a small smile. Their moment was interrupted by Uncle Arthur's curious voice.

"So tell me how you ended up with an owl as a pet." Hermione saw Harry's smile grow at the question and the opportunity to brag about his familiar a little bit.

"Well, five years ago one of the teachers from school came to help me with my shopping for my first year. His name's Hagrid and the first thing you need to know about him is that he has the biggest heart of anyone you'll ever meet." Harry managed to fill the rest of the short ride with a carefully edited account of how Hagrid had bought Hedwig for a young orphan boy. Hermione knew the story already, but seeing Harry's face display the honest, happy emotions he felt talking about Hedwig and Hagrid meant that she would gladly hear it another thousand times. Hermione's happiness took a bit of a hit when they arrived at Uncle Arthur's house and found her parents waiting outside looking rather put out; at least Mum was.

"There you are. Hermione, say goodbye to Uncle Arthur; we're going home."

"What? No, please, Mum, I want to stay here with Uncle Arthur and Harry. It's only a few days until we go back to school anyway."

"Not happening, young lady." Hermione was about to argue back at her mother when her father interrupted the budding mother-daughter stand-off.

"Hermione, have you actually thought this through? You haven't any clothes or toiletries with you and everything you would need at school the coming year is still back home with us. Insisting on staying here with your uncle and your friend would be foolishly impulsive." In all honesty Hermione  _hadn't_ thought that far ahead yet; the confrontation with Harry's relatives had put all planning on hold in favour of dealing with the situation at hand.  _Dad's right, but I know that if I leave now they won't drive me back here._  A tug at her arm drew Hermione's attention back to the outside world and Harry's worried look. She let him draw her a few steps away from her family.

"Hermione, your dad's right: you'll need to get your things at least."

"Harry, you don't understand. Once I'm back in Crawley I won't have any way to get back here. With the mood Mum's in she certainly won't be giving me a ride over." Hermione could hear the frustration in her own voice as she spoke.

"So? Just step outside and raise your wand. The Knight Bus isn't the most comfortable way to travel, but it's convenient. I can lend you a few galleons if you're worried about not having enough wizarding currency." Harry's tone was so matter of fact that Hermione felt tempted to slap herself for missing such an obvious solution. She was so lost in the possibilities Harry's solution offered her that she acted without thinking and pulled his head down to kiss him fully on the lips.

"Harry, that's brilliant!" Hermione bounced back over to her family with a massive grin on her face. "Uncle Arthur, is it alright if I join you and Harry tomorrow?"

"I have no problem with that." Uncle Arthur snickered. "Who knows, Harry might have even recovered by then." With that her uncle's self control broke and he started howling with laughter so loudly that he would have toppled over if it hadn't been for his cane. Looking over her shoulder Hermione saw that Harry was still standing where she had left him with an incredulous expression plastered on his face. The realisation of what she had just done overtook her and she felt a heat rising in her cheeks. Harry seemed to come out of his stupor at the racket her uncle was causing. She felt those emerald green eyes locking onto her own and she must have blinked at some point as Harry was suddenly standing right in front of her.  _Shit. Come on, Granger; say something. Don't let this get awkward._  Before she could think of anything that might defuse the situation she felt a pair of warm lips brush over her own. She was still processing what happened when she became aware of the fact that Harry's eyes were still filling her field of vision.

"Tomorrow?" Hermione had no problems understanding what her best friend meant.

"Tomorrow." she agreed before turning to her parents. Dad was looking resigned, but Mum's expression promised an argument on the way home. Determined that they wouldn't start that argument here in front of Harry, Hermione gave him one last hug before marching over to her parents' car and slipping inside. Through the window she could see her parents saying a hurried goodbye to Uncle Arthur who still looked thoroughly amused at the turn the night had taken. She was a little miffed that they seemed to ignore Harry, but when she caught him looking in her direction that melted into the background.  _That's right. Tomorrow we'll talk about what this means. Either way I won't regret what happened tonight as long as Harry and I can come out of this at least as friends._ Deep down inside of her, Hermione knew that their actions tonight had opened the door to a new path for their friendship. The thought that they may have already placed their feet tentatively on that path made her feel contented in a way that she had never known. Seeing her parents approaching the car with stern looks on their faces couldn't even put a dent in that feeling.  _I know who and what I am. I think I know what I want and I am absolutely sure that if I were ever to miss a step on the path that Harry would be there to catch me. That is more than worth staying in the magical world for._

* * *

**The End**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made Harry far-sighted since it makes more sense to me that he'd be able to spot a Snitch that way while still needing glasses. It has absolutely nothing to do with my own eyes having the same problem...
> 
> David Hume was an 18th century philosopher and economist. If you would like to study the more quantified version of the idea Arthur Williams mentions in this chapter check out Bayes' Theorem which was developed around the same time and deals with something known as Inverse Probability.
> 
> In 2015 Detective Constable Michael Stokes was sentenced to four years in prison for his part in stealing £10'000 from the body of evidence recovered during a 2011 raid. Given that he was 35 at the time of sentencing he would be Harry's age and not in any position to harass him as a member of the Surrey Police in 1996 (not to mention he was a part of the South Wales Police), but I decided to borrow the name anyway.
> 
> For the Americans: a citation is the same as a 'notice to appear' or a 'summons'. The policeman is basically threatening the Grangers with a ticket for whatever reason he might like to come up with.


End file.
